


Chosen

by Severiner



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU-verse, Bonding, M/M, Multi, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious bot napping, Religious ritural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severiner/pseuds/Severiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus is chosen and taken by a mysterious group who take him far under the surface of Cybertron.</p>
<p>It is here that he learns a secret of his spark, and the truth of their entire race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chosen

Optimus struggled against his bounds and the mech carrying him. He had no idea of where he was as they had deactivated his guidance systems along with keeping him in stasis for most of the long journey. He could not even use the positions of the stars to determine his location as they were underground and as far as he could tell, they were going deeper.

The bounds were not cruel and the mech had not actually harmed him, but still he was terrified. He was the second creation to King Ultra Magnus leader of Iacon, a strong leader with many enemies. Optimus did not understand why so many hated his sire, but did know that he and his siblings were also targets.  
He soon gave up the struggle it was useless, the bonds were too strong. The group paused a little while later, taking out flasks of energon and coolant, both of which were offered to him. He drank his fill remembering the first couple of times where he had refused and had to ask for some later. His bounds were also checked and a soothing lotion rubbed in where the cuffs had chafed him.

The careful treatment confused him, if this was about revenge on his sire or something of the like he would not expect to be treated this well. Unless his captors wanted him alive for whatever they had planned when they finally reached their destination. His captors too were not what he would have expected. They wore simple mesh loin cloths and intricate inlays of various precious metals; he thought that they had to have some meaning as many wore the same. He was too afraid to ask though.

Finally they reached a community or perhaps a city deep under Cybertron’s surface. Here he was brought to what could only be a temple and he saw that his theory was indeed correct. The higher the rank the more intricate the inlays and the more of their frame it covered. Here he was allowed to move around under his own free will but he was not allowed to leave the temple confines.

He was also pampered; when he first arrived he was washed then left to soak in an oil bath. He was given a full check over which included fluid changes and a complete de-kinking session. There was one part he absolutely hated though, on the first orn he was give some strange energon which forced him to purge, he realised what they were doing, they were cleansing his systems, preparing him for something. But what that something was had him worried. His usual garments, now quite soiled, were taken instead replaced with a fine mesh loin cloth and cloak which was covered with the strange symbols and designs which adorned the walls and mech of the temple.

He considered trying to leave, but soon decided against it, he had no idea where he was, how he had gotten here and knew that the journey had taken little over a groon. No one seemed inclined to explain anything either and he feared that he had fallen into the servos of some strange cult. He did not even try to ask.  
A full decaorn after they had arrived at the temple, dedicated to a being he did not know, or at least could not figure out as there were no statues of reliefs of them, he was prepared for another journey. Many strange items were brought along and he knew that another group were following theirs. The items included polish and wax, various additives and other solutions he had no idea what was, a ladle, folds of finely woven mesh-cloth and a gleaming dagger. It was the last item that had him frightened again. He felt like a sacrifice.

The second journey was shorter and continued down, until he was almost convinced that they should soon reach the planets core. The passage they were in ended in two large chambers, their group entered the one to the right. Optimus realised that the other group would likely use the other chamber. Behind thick veils along one wall he could make out a faint glow, it was the only opening in the room apart from the entrance they had used, which was also now also covered by thick veils.

In the middle was a raised plinth, upon which stood a table deeply inscribed with symbols that he had never seen before but felt as if he could almost make sense of. Behind that and where he was being led was a depression filled with a softly glowing liquid. He could guess what was about to happen and knew that he could not fight.

He let the priests remove his clothing and guide him to lay in the warm liquid so that only his helm was above the surface. It felt odd, almost like acid but it did not actually harm him, one of the lower ranking priests, using the ladle, carefully pored the liquid over his helm so that he was completely covered in it.  
When the priests indicated for him to come back out of the pool he hesitated realising that they would not touch the liquid. The rebellion was short lived though and he carefully climbed out of the pool. Once out he was wrapped in some of the cloth and guided to lie on the table which had been covered in the remaining cloth. He was carefully dried off. One by one they removed his armour plating, this he tried to protest, but his complaints were ignored and struggles subdued.  
Several of the waxes and ointments were used to clean and polish each removed plate. When they had removed the last piece they carefully made sure his protoform was dry before carefully rubbing in the remaining oils. Once this was done the dagger was pulled out.

Optimus watched with fear as the head priest took the dagger and approached gently laying the flat against his chest. The blade felt cool and almost nice after the warm oils, but the nature of the object prevented him from enjoying it. He tensed when the blade was moved, digging in slightly into his sensitive metal. Never once did it leave his frame but neither did it pierce the plating. Thin strings of his metal curled up in the blades path as the priest etched a strange yet infuriatingly familiar pattern. He moved from the semi-transparent plates of his chest around his shoulders and down his abdomen and sides before having him rolled over, the blade still in contact with his frame. The process then continued on his back. The blade was only lifted away once most of his torso was covered with the design.

One of the powders was rubbed all over the etched surface soothing the sting and removing any rough edges. That was thoroughly cleaned off and a solution was then rubbed in carefully being dabbed away from the raised parts so it sat in the grove left by the etching. By this point Optimus was back to confused more than frightened.

Warm plates of metal were wrapped around his torso held in place by the mesh-cloth. He was left for a few breem allowing him to watch as coats of polish and wax were applied to his armour making it gleam. Once the warm plates were removed he could see that the solution had hardened and changed to a golden colour making the design stand out against his bright red and blue.

More oil was rubbed in before his armour was returned. Meticulously the polish and wax were buffed until it was completely even. He was dressed in new cloth made in the same style as what he wore coming down here. He was given a bowl of energon and another of coolant, both obviously laced with the additives. Resigned to his fate, whatever it would be, he drank.

Finally satisfied the priests led him to the covered opening, the mesh-cloth covering pulled to one side for him. Setting his shoulders he walked through alone. As he walked towards the source of the light his thoughts turned back to his sire.

Ultra Magnus had never allowed any of his creations to learn of the practices of the other people who inhabited Cybertron. He had always been able to put it out of mind, but now he wished that he had been taught of them, perhaps then he would have some idea of what was going on. He dearly loved his sire, but now he had just a glimmer of why so many did not like him, he did not respect their beliefs.

His thoughts changed path and he considered why he had been taken. This clearly had nothing to do with his sire, so why? His train of thought was broken when he heard heavy steps off to his left. Several mecha-meters further and he glance to his left. Instantly he froze, azure optics locked on the strong form of the Kaon Warlord, Megatron.

“Ah, I had been wondering who the other was. This certainly does make things interesting, but the priests of Primus have never been wrong before,” The larger mech hummed looking him over.

Optimus was suddenly very glad for the cloak as he held it securely around him. Primus, he had heard of him before, the supposed creator of all mech.  
“So that’s who they worship,” He muttered still rooted to the spot.

Megatron laughed, “The Priests are very secretive, but of course your sire would not have let you know the little that is common knowledge. Let me inform you then.”

Optimus’s gaze finally reached the ruby optics only to find they were locked on him, he could not turn away.

“Primus created Cybertron, how he did this is greatly debated, however as far as I could glean, the Priests believe that Cybertron is in fact Primus’s physical form. He created upon the surface a great diversity of cybernetic life with our ancestors, the first mech, as the caretakers and guardians. Primus knew that his children would divide themselves and forget their original purpose, so every million vorn; two are chosen who are worthy and strong enough to reunite the people. We are the chosen ones,” Megatron resumed walking at the end of his speech.

Optimus sent a glance back the way he had came before hurrying to catch up, Megatron’s words repeating in his processors.

It did not take long to reach the end of the passage where they stepped into a gigantic cavern filled with light. Optimus jumped at a slight hissing/rasping noise, turning around he saw that their exit was now sealed by more of the crystal the covered the entire chamber. When he turned back again he saw Megatron bowing to a figure that he was certain had not been there before.

The mech smiled as he approached him. “Peace my beloved child,” The mech spoke softly, reaching out to gently stroke his cheek, “All will be well. I have been waiting a long time for both of you. And now finally you are here.” He, Primus, reached out a hand to Megatron drawing them both into the centre of the chamber. Above their helms a gigantic sphere gently pulsed, it was the light source and Optimus thought it looked like a giant spark.

Suddenly he gasped with realisation and pulled away from Primus’s avatar, it was a spark. They were in the centre of Cybertron. They were in Primus’s spark chamber.

Tendrils reached out from the spark, hovering around him and reaching for Megatron, who with an awed expression reached out to caress them. Primus hummed in pleasure. Seeing no harm to the Warlord from the tendrils, he hesitantly reached out to touch one.

“Yes, relax my chosen bondmates, all is well,” Primus smiled.

Optimus felt the tendrils caress him, gently tugging at the cloth, removing it as they did with Megatron.

“Bondmates?” he whispered as the tendrils carefully lifted him, drawing him towards the spark.

“Yes. How else would you know what I wish?”

“What of Unicron?” Optimus looked over towards Megatron at the question.

“My other half. When he comes it will be time for the end. But that is not for eons yet,” The voice was coming from all around them now. The figure had disappeared.

“Who is Unicron?” Optimus asked, feeling a little silly for not knowing.

“He is the Destroyer. His realm is chaos, war and death. He is my brother, my match and my opposite. Together we complete the cycle life and death. Life has no meaning without death, and likewise there must be life for there to be death. Life also comes from death as materials are reused and recycled. However when Unicron comes it will be the end for this Universe,” Primus explained.

“Oh and from the death of this universe a new one will be born and the cycle will start over!” Optimus realised.

“Yes, but at all times balance must be upheld.”

“Sometimes it is necessary to tip the balance in order to create new opportunities,” Megatron added.

“You truly are a disciple of my brother, Megatron,” Primus laughed.

“Balance. So Megatron and I, we balance each other?” Optimus considered.

“There is more to it than that. The two of you are very special sparks. Most only have one life, one chance at existence. However the two of you have clung on appearing in many different universes. Sometimes as rivals with the potential to tear everything apart. Sometimes alone, where you never meet the other. But also at times as lovers. It goes even deeper, in many of the Universe where you have been enemies; one or both have offlined then returned. Other sparks have lived in multiple Universes, but not like the two of you.”

Optimus felt and saw fragments of these other Universe, of his other lives. Instinctively he knew Megatron was experiencing the same.

“We were once one Spark,” They spoke in unison as their physical forms were pulled within the gigantic spark and towards each other.

“Yes. You are Unicron’s, and my first creation. You were too strong, contained too many opposing traits that you split. It is always a joy to reunite with you both,” Primus’s spark enveloped them warmly reaching through their armour towards their sparks.

Optimus allowed himself to fully relax. Further words were not needed as connections were made, his spark started communicating directly with Primus and he knew what Primus and Megatron were communicating about. He could feel the age and experience of his own spark, how many times it had been broken, torn and shattered by Megatron and others, yet all the hope, love and joy was there too, balancing it.

They reached out for each other, plating parting, revealing that Megatron had also been covered in the etchings, though it stood out green instead of golden.  
The feelings they were experiencing were rapture, pure pleasure, warmth, love... It was more emotions than sensations associated with their dermal sensors. He vaguely felt Megatron physically curl around him as their sparks twined, finding their match, the seams where they had been torn apart at the beginning. They merged into one, finding a balance. Around them and in them was Primus and through him they could feel the connection to Unicron. This did not take from their experience of each other, but rather enhanced it.

When they parted and were lowered back to the floor, neither was depleted of energy, rather they felt filled and complete. Silently they donned their clothing and walked out, side by side. Another passage opened for them and they took it finally meeting up with the Priests in a large cavern.

They were treated like royalty, like divine beings, yet both knew they could not let this be when they returned to the surface. To reunite Cybertron they had to become one with their people. The task would be difficult and the path long, but they would continue. ‘Till all are one.


End file.
